21. Emily
emily
T he following week moves at a glacial pace as I try to avoid being alone with Ben as much as possible.
I know I’m being a coward, but how am I supposed to look him in the eyes again after I masturbated to thoughts of him the other night?
Or that it wasn’t the last time? I have been feeling restless and jittery, like my skin is being stretched too tightly.
If Ben so much as brushed his finger accidentally against me, I swear I would implode with the pressure building up under my skin.
It hasn’t been too hard to avoid him, at least. I guess it’s the perk of working long shifts: early mornings and late nights, eat dinner, shower, sleep, then rinse and repeat.
This time of year, it’s dark when I head into work, and it’s dark again when I get out.
It makes for a depressing season, but the distraction has been necessary for my sanity’s sake.
When I’m not busy at work, my mind drifts to thoughts of Ben, and I wonder what he’s doing or if he’s thinking about me.
Then, I berate myself for even thinking he would think about me.
By the time I get home, I’m usually so exhausted that it’s a chore to even make myself dinner.
Most of the time, I don’t see him before it’s time for me to go to bed.
I think he works a lot of late hours and he seems to really enjoy his job.
It’s kind of refreshing to see someone enjoying their career.
He seems motivated to climb the ladder to be the top executive of his company.
I usually hear him making his way into the apartment when I’m already climbing into bed.
Even though he can’t see me, I always tense up in anticipation.
My skin buzzes as I strain my ears to listen to his movements.
Unfortunately, it’s like he’s trained me to respond to his presence, and as soon as he’s around, my core gets achy.
The need to be filled and stretched is unbearable.
I don’t have any fancy dildos or toys, so my hands have been doing the job for me.
The orgasm is usually quick but feels empty. I wish things were different and that I could act on this impulse to jump him as soon as he got home and ride his cock until the emptiness was gone.
Ugh. I never once felt these urges when Logan and I were together. Sure, the sex was nice, but it was predictable. I have never felt this on edge before. I honestly don’t know how much longer I can resist Ben before I combust.
These days, Logan has barely been on my mind. Nowhere near as much as I think about—or obsess is more like it—Ben.
Logan continues to text me, which is perplexing. Earlier in the month, he sent a message asking if the oven mitt I left behind was something I wanted and if he could drop it off for me. I declined his offer until the next time he found another random item I mistakenly left behind.
It’s odd that he texts me so much, given how eager he was to get rid of me. I expected him to end contact with me after I moved. That’s what things were like when we were broken up, but I was still living with him.
The more that time passes, the more clarity I get about the state of our relationship.
It’s a little too late to recognize that while we seemed compatible on paper, we severely lacked chemistry.
There was sexual attraction initially, but Logan never made me feel like my skin was on fire just by being in the same room as him.
He never made my core clench with desperation just by sitting close to him.
The thought of being touched by him did not leave me breathless.
Ultimately, I am glad that Logan ended things, even if I wish he could have gone about it differently. Who knew how far I would have let things carry on if he hadn’t ripped the wool from over my eyes?
While I was still battling with the feeling of guilt that I should take longer to “mourn” our relationship, I realized what really bothered me about the whole situation. The only part that seems to raise my blood pressure is the callous way Logan went about it.
I felt so disrespected. He didn’t even have the decency to talk to me before he decided we were over. Would it have made a difference? Probably not, but isn’t that the whole point of being in a relationship with someone? Talking to them about your feelings or doubts?
He never even clued me in on his thoughts because he never loved or respected me. That surely hurts my ego and my heart. This whole time, I thought he cared about me, and he was probably thinking how sad and pathetic I was to still be hanging on to him.
Logan. Is. The. Worst.
Heaving a dramatic sigh, I go about my routine for the day.
It’s Friday, and other than going to the gym and catching up on some errands, I have little else planned for the rest of the day.
The stars have aligned and granted me the weekend off.
I’m thankful for the reprieve, but I don’t even have any plans for the weekend.
While I don’t mind not having plans, I feel like it would be a disaster to be left home alone with Ben all weekend without a buffer between us.
Maybe we should try that new restaurant again and invite some friends with us so we don’t end up alone?
Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.
W ell, that was a bust.
Apparently, everybody is busy tonight except for Ben.
I didn’t want to be a coward and bail on Ben when I realized that none of our mutual friends could join in on dinner plans.
Translation: nobody was available to stop me from making a complete fool of myself and jumping Ben’s bones.
I don’t think I have ever felt so nervous about being alone with anyone before, and it is incredibly inconvenient that it is also my roommate.
Our lease doesn’t end for another year, and there is no way I am going to break the lease early unless things end badly between us.
Do I think things would end badly between us?
Honestly, who knows anymore? I thought Logan and I were endgame, and look where that ended up.
The bigger question is whether I’m willing to take the chance again with somebody new.
Talking to people about Logan makes me realize how awful he treated me.
I know that I never want to be in this position ever again.
So, that’s how we find ourselves at the new Italian restaurant, Mama Mia’s, on Main Street. We’re seated in a corner booth of the bar, which gives us the illusion of privacy. I thought things would be awkward between us, but our conversation has been flowing with ease.
When we accidentally touch each other, we pull away quickly, as if we are being zapped by electricity.
It feels nice to know that he’s not as unaffected as he seems. We’re just finishing our main course before the server returns with the dessert menu.
I’m stuffed, but I could probably find some room for dessert.
Ben lets me look over the menu first, and we decide to share a dessert—a molten chocolate lava cake. The server takes the menu from us. I sit back in my seat as the silence stretches between us.
Ben taps his fingers on the table as if he’s contemplating something. I watch the rhythmic motion and try not to drool at the thick veins of his hands and forearms.
“Can I ask you something?” Although his voice was low, I could still hear him above the noise of the crowd. I tilt my head and wait for him to continue. “Have you heard from Logan?”
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
“Ummm…he’s been texting me randomly. It’s kinda weird, honestly.”
The server returns with our dessert and places it in the middle. He lays both spoons down. “Enjoy.”
The cake’s richness is overwhelming, and I fight back a moan of pleasure as the flavor explodes in my mouth. The warm, gooey cake paired with the cool, creamy ice cream sends shivers of pure delight down my spine. The delightful contrast of temperatures that tantalizes my taste buds.
We’re taking the last bites of the cake when Ben puts his spoon down on the table and leans back. I’m determined not to let any of the cake go to waste, so I scoop the last little morsel into my mouth and look up.
I can’t make out what he’s thinking, but he seems contemplative as he sits there, eyes half hidden in shadows, though I can feel the weight of his stare on me.
I try to keep eye contact, but the intensity makes me blush. I’m trying to resist the urge to wiggle in my seat before I hear him clear his throat. I look up at him with an eyebrow raised, waiting for him to say something to break the tense silence.
“Do I make you nervous, roomie?” His voice comes out husky, and I have to strain my ears to hear him over the din of the bar crowd.
“Um… no…”
“Liar.” He smirks at me. Then he gets a serious look on his face. “Do you miss him?”
I’m taken aback by his question. In all the time we’ve spent together, Logan has rarely ever come up in conversation, yet he’s come up twice tonight. It’s almost like I forget he ever existed when I’m with Ben. Being around Ben has a way of making me lose track of both time and reality.
“No. I don’t miss him,” I answer honestly.
He must sense the truth in my words because his tense shoulders relax.
“Good,” he states. “Very good.”
“Well… what about you?”
“What about me?” he queries.
“Do you…do you miss Melissa?”
Ben tilts his head as if assessing me before answering with a short and perfunctory “No.”
“Oh.”
It’s quiet for a moment before he continues, “I don’t miss her because I don’t love her. I stopped being in love with her a long time ago. I stuck with her for so long because I thought it was the right thing to do.”
“Oh. Right, that makes sense.” Does it, though?
“We dragged our relationship out way longer than we should have. I will always regret that, but I don’t regret where it’s led me.”
“And where’s that?” I ask, curious.
“I’m here with you.”